Dealing With Loneliness

Lately, I have been struggling with loneliness.

I felt that I had actually been doing OK up until about Wednesday. Wednesday was my night off and I decided to go out for some coffee. By myself, which is not so unusual. But it suddenly hit me that I am nearly always alone.

I am a person who likes my alone time, which has helped me during the break up. But I don't like being alone all the time. I went out, realizing that I was going out alone. Again. And for some reason, I couldn't shake it. (It was also a bit on the late side for most of my friends on a weekday).

I no longer have a standing dinner date, lunch date, coffee date, drink date. My friends all are very busy people and I haven't seen them often lately, which I know doesn't help my mood and mentality.

A couple of nights later, it seemed like everyone I had contact with (that being my mom and my coworkers mostly) had a date night this weekend or a fun get together planned. And I was so heartbroken that I don't have anyone to plan a date with. No one will grab lunch with me or make dinner for me, just to be nice. And I felt so left out. I go out and it's always dinner for one. Just one beer, please.

I don't have anyone to tell the details about my day, like I used to. And I have been sick and mopey because there isn't anyone who wants to help take care of me. Maybe that's selfish. It's just hard because I used to have that.

No one to talk to when I get home, to cuddle up and watch a movie with. I miss being hugged and held and I miss feeling that kind of love.

So I suppose that "dealing" with loneliness is misleading, since I don't seem to be dealing well at all. And as always, when I am feeling upset, I have dreams about my ex and about the break up which always make things worse.

I also got un-invited to a Super Bowl gathering because I'm sick. I get it, but that was disheartening. I felt too sick and tired to deal with a large crowd, so I didn't end up going anywhere else, either.

I guess I've just been so down and sad these last several days. I seriously hope that it will pass soon. I still hate the sad days the most. I will be attempting to drown my sorrows in my books if anyone needs me.

An Ode to Bowie

I have spent the last couple of days listening to Blackstar and getting ready to release a blog post about the songs and my reflections.

And I don't have the heart to anymore.

For anyone who hasn't heard (and I imagine most people heard very quickly), David Bowie died early this morning, January 11th, 2016. Just 3 days after his 69th birthday and the release of his album. (I also read that it happened late on January 10, 2016. I guess the date doesn't matter so much though. Not to me, anyway.)

I am heartbroken. And it feels a little surreal. Part of me thought (and hoped) that he would just go on living forever.

This was a hard hit for me for so many reasons.

As a younger member of his fan base, I never got the chance to see him perform. And it was one of my very greatest wishes to do so. I promised myself that if he ever toured again, I would break the bank and do whatever I needed to do to make sure that I got a good ticket and (if possible) a back stage pass. I was willing to travel to do this. And I always said that if I could see him perform, even just once, and meet him (no matter how brief), that I could die happy. That's a pretty big deal to be letting go right now.

I discovered DB when I watched Labyrinth the first time. I must have been 12 or 13 at the time. Later, I rediscovered it and fell in love with the music performed by this weird man who was more popular than I thought he could ever be. I convinced my mom to buy the Labyrinth sound track followed by the first 3 DB albums I ever heard: Let's Dance, Young American, and Aladdin Sane. These sustained me for a year or so. Heathen came out or had recently been released during this time, and I remember my mom bringing that one home and I instantly fell in love with it. Then Reality was released. I still remember the day my mom picked me up from school with the CD playing to surprise me.

It was during the Reality tour that, in Germany, DB had a little heart attack which stopped his tour. After that, he did almost no more performing at all and didn't release another album for 10 years. By the time that Reality was released, I don't think I even had gotten my driver's license yet, so you can see why I've never had the opportunity to see him.

In general, I am not overly impressed with celebrities. And while I may be a fan or find some of them talented or attractive, I am never so in awe that I forget they are human. Except for DB. He inspired that awe in me. And to me, he was not human, but a god. He was my idol. The one that I admired and thought so much of that he was raised in status above a mere human.

And why is that?

Frankly, I don't know. My love of DB has never been something that I hid or felt shy about, but my level of devotion is also not shared by most people that I know, even among those who like him.

The connection that I feel with DB is something that has been very personal and a little strange. He is exactly the type of person I would usually dislike. I disapproved of most of his life and the choices he made. Despite the fact that he and I seem like polar opposites, I cannot help but love his music.

Another thing that people assume about my love for DB: that there is something sexual about it. While I will admit that he is and was always attractive, I feel that more objectively than personally. I think that he aged well and became handsome and that his looks were always unique and intriguing. But I think any implication of it being somehow sexual is creepy. Yes, I love DB, no, I never had any even remote desire to sleep with him. I imagine that feeling is not shared by all of his fanbase though.

His music meant so much to me. There is something about his songs that speak to me and draw me in and become so meaningful to me. It is a very personal connection that I feel with his songs and that can't really be shared with someone else. Sometimes I think that, when I listen to his songs in the company of others, that we are not even hearing the same song. His music strikes me on a different level, and I think his song writing was amazingly brilliant. How can someone so different from me who writes songs for himself and his personas speak directly to my soul? We are so different, but I think that he is (was) just that amazing.

I think that he was inspiring. He has always been such an advocate for being yourself and being an individual. I think striving to be yourself is always a worthwhile goal and that influenced me, too.

I suppose the worst part is knowing that this is it. There will never be another album, another song. I won't ever buy another brand new CD and pop it in and feel elated at hearing the familiar sound of his voice while relishing in the new sound of his music. That was the best thing about new songs. I always felt such a jolt of happiness hearing that voice. Something old and something new all at once. It was always a little bit magical for me. And I'm sad that I won't have that again. Blackstar was my last chance.

Anyway, this has hit me hard and I have been crying since the moment I read the second or third article (I couldn't believe the first). And my heart goes out to his family, who I have also fallen in love with.

I'm absolutely devastated. I feel like a part of me has been lost. Is that pathetic? I don't think I realized how tightly I had bound myself to DB until now.

Rest in peace, DB. Your loss will be felt so deeply.

"Never mind the stares. 'If I'm going to do something that could be provocative or artistically relevant, I have to be prepared to put myself in a place where I feel unsafe, not completely in control. I have no fear of failure whatsoever, because often out of that uncertainty something is salvaged, something that is worthwhile comes about. There is no progress without failure. And each failure is a lesson learned. Unnecessary failures are the ones where an artist tries to second guess an audience's taste, and little comes out of that situation except a kind of inward humiliation.'"~David Bowie

If anyone is interested, here are most of my DB posts from the past. The first one meant the most to me.
David Bowie and Me 
David Bowie's "The Next Day" 
David Bowie and Other Oddaments 
A David Bowie Birthday 
Random David Bowie Post 
There are others, but these were the more important ones.

Rattie Remembrance

I went to the Facebook page for Mesa Veterinary Hospital here: Mesa Facebook Page and dug up a few treasures.

Remus after his surgery in his collar. Which he hated.

He was a big boy!

Aww, look at this big cutie!

Yep, vet pictures. Gotta love it. My vet sent me a card following Remus's death (actually, following the deaths of all of my critters) and both of his vets wrote nice messages and they included a picture of the gal holding Remus in his collar. Which was so sweet and made me cry all over again.

I miss my ratties. Life is sad without them. I still look over to where their cage was. I catch myself walking towards their table before I remember that there isn't anything there. I don't have to save noodles and snacks anymore. It's just sad and a big adjustment for me. I am so used to worrying about them or thinking about them that it is hard to break that habit. I would give just about anything to have those things back.

I love and miss my rats. I just hope that they are together again and happy.

And Then There Were None

Today my little Remus died. It was very sudden and unexpected. He had been doing really well and acting normally. His appetite was still good and he was still lively and playful. I am not sure if it was a seizure, heart attack, stroke, or what, but it was fast and a little scary. But it was over quickly.

I took this picture of him today, shortly before his episode. I was telling him that he was going to be my witch's familiar for Halloween. He looked unimpressed.

The attack or whatever happened very quickly, but I called the vet to tell them we were coming in because he was having trouble breathing right after. He had stopped breathing by the time my shoes were on, but I ran him to the vet anyway. There was nothing they could do. I was able to say goodbye to him and he will be sent to be cremated.

Such an unhappy, wet rat. But cute.

It's so sad that such great little creatures live so short a time. Despite that, I love little animals and I hope that I will be able to have more rats again one day. It's hard not to fall in love and become a rat person.

Sometimes Remus just wanted to be with me.

I think I will miss talking to Remus the most, followed shortly by cuddling with him (though he was not always much of a cuddler), and sharing my food. Who will I share my food with now? I always give him a little tortilla in the mornings and a little bread when I make sandwiches. I always share my fruit and veggies with him and I loved it when he climbed all over me to try to get to my food.

It was so surprising that I think it will take a while to sink in. Everything was sudden and fast. I am so sad and heartbroken. The first thing I said when he was fading was, "I'm not ready." But I guess that's silly--who is ready to lose someone? I just thought I had more time with him.

I hope my boys are reunited, at least.

What I wouldn't give to share my food with him again. I miss my rats so much. Love you, little Remus.

Missing Romulus

Today I am really struggling with missing Romulus.

His memory is still so vivid that it is hard for me to comprehend him never being here again. How can he not be here when I can see him so clearly in my mind? If he were on the couch with me right now, I know exactly what he would be doing and where he would be going and where he would curl up to nap. And it's hard for me not to imagine him being here when we have been in this exact spot so many times before.

But there won't be anymore cuddles, licks, pictures, games, snacks, naps, and shenanigans. He was the best at getting into everything that I didn't want him to get into. And when I held him and scolded him, he knew I'd let him go if he reached out and licked my nose. Made my heart melt every time. I miss that. But I miss everything.

The vet called a few days ago for me to come pick up his ashes. And after three days, I still can't bring myself to drive all the way down there and walk through those doors again. It might make it all too real, and I can't decide if that is good or bad. I do know that it will hurt either way. That place is part of what made losing him so surreal. I never went to that office before, but ended up there three times in one week. The first time, my vet didn't have anyone available so they recommended I take him to this place to be checked out. A week later, I was rushing Romulus to their 24 hour emergency room at almost 9pm. I didn't leave until after 11pm. The next morning I went back to say good-bye. So the whole situation and the place don't seem quite real in my mind. I'm afraid to go back because it makes it all real again. And I'm not sure if that will help me come to terms with his loss or just make it worse.

His second birthday is two days away. I will have to do a little something for Remus, but it makes me feel Romulus' loss that much more.

My little heart is still so broken and there is not much that I wouldn't give to have him back. I know time will dull the ache and ease the pain. But for now, it still hurts and I still have to remember and cry. And apparently avoid that vet office. Maybe I will find some courage and go later. Seems better than going on his birthday, which is my next day off. Definitely not a good birthday chore.

Missing My Rat

Yesterday I had to put down Romulus. He got a respiratory infection, but his symptoms did not seem to indicate that. So I waited too long to bring him into the vet. We got him started on antibiotics and after several days, they weren't working, but I thought they just needed more time. So I didn't take him in until he was having severe trouble breathing (suddenly). I rushed him to the emergency room, crying and panicked. I kept him on my lap and basically refused to let go of him until someone finally came to put him into an oxygen box. That seemed to help and we added an antibiotic.

The next day he was struggling to breathe, even with the oxygen. Despite the care and drugs and oxygen, he was fading quickly. I had to make the horrible decision to put him down because I didn't want him to suffer anymore and there wasn't a chance of him getting better.

I feel like that was the right decision, even though it was a big one and I felt like I really shouldn't be the one to decide that. But it's hard. And my heart is broken.

The whole 24 hours or so seemed so surreal. I spent so much time in the ER waiting room and exam rooms and Romulus faded so, so quickly. It all happened so fast that I didn't get time to really adjust to his life ending and him being gone from my life. Usually when pets age, they decline slowly and you have time to prepare.

I put him down exactly two weeks before his second birthday. He didn't even make it to his second birthday. And that just seems horribly unfair. And I actually feel angry. I am used to my pets living a pretty long time and he should have had at least another year. So I can't help but feel that he is supposed to be here. I still expect him to be here. He was so cheerful and loving all the time, even when he wasn't feeling well (which is probably part of why I didn't realize how sick he was earlier). It is very hard for me to see my life without him. It was too sudden. And I know life isn't fair, but this seems so cruel.

To top it off, I feel horrible for Remus. He has always been with his brother. And I can tell that he is OK, but kind of mopey. I think it will be hard for him. And I feel like I should look into getting him a buddy (after some time), but he is really going to have to be the right rat. Romulus was SO easy-going and happy. Remus is sweet, but neurotic, anxious, and the dominant rat. I am pretty sure the only reason he was dominant is because Romulus let him and didn't care enough to fight for it. I would have to find a rat that would fit with him. Remus is kind of anti-social; its possible he will be OK on his own, but I don't want him to be sad and lonely.

Romulus and his little "meeps" when he was getting into trouble.

I keep expecting Romulus to be here. I miss him licking me all the time and playing with me. He was always the social one who wanted to come out and run around and be in the middle of everything. I will miss him trying to help himself to my food and drinks (Remus is too polite for that, the sweetie). I just miss him with an acute ache that makes my stomach tighten and my heart hurt. And I cry a lot. Sometimes randomly when a thought sneaks up on me. I also haven't been sleeping very well. I lay there for hours and just think about him. I feel lost without him.

 

Romulus kisses.

I'm glad I still have Remus and he still has me. I make him come out and sit and cuddle with me more (which he tolerates pretty well--he's not much of a cuddler). It's going to take a while for me to bounce back from this one. I try to keep myself distracted, otherwise I just cry all of the time. He was the best rat and he is sorely missed.

What I Miss

I'm not crazy about sleeping alone.

i miss laughing with him and all the odd and silly things he used to do or say.

I miss his smile. And I miss him being happy to see me.

I really miss being held. I always thought that the very best place to be was in his arms.

I miss all of our time spent together and long for the plans we'd made (like watching the Star Wars trilogy and riding the light rail down to a Rockies game to name a couple I was looking forward to).

I miss talking to him about anything and everything and vice-versa.

I miss kissing him and holding his hand.

But more than anything, I miss telling him that I love him.

And while some of his feelings may have changed, and even though I am heart-broken, my feelings have stayed the same. I still love him with an unrivaled fierceness that I never expected I could. And despite everything, I can't help whispering to the room that I love him when he leaves. It's very hard to not tell him.

An Early Morning Post

It's about 5:40am on my day off.

Just woke up from a dream about Pico.

Despite his inbreeding, he died of old age, not illness, as far as I could tell. Though he must have had a tumor on his adrenal gland(s) if his hair loss and subsequent hair gain was any indication. He outlived any hamster I've ever had. And I have had more hamsters than I want to count.

In my dream, he was sick. He had large tumors on his sides (which another hamster of mine had many, many years ago). He was very sick and going to die soon. But despite all of this, he was still very sweet. My friend, Jhenn and I were watching and holding him and trying to make him comfortable.

Then I had to leave. Jhenn left and my mom appeared. We were getting ready to go and I just started crying and crying about Pico. My mom and sister and I were supposed to be going somewhere so we were all trying to shuffle out with me unable to see through my tears or hear over my heart-broken sobbing.

So I woke up and cried and cried. And I miss Pico with a sort of attached pathetic-ness that I've never experienced before with any pet I've ever had.

My mom days that most dreams about dead animals are visitations. Not long after he died, I had the most horrible nightmare that I hurt Pico and he cried. That nightmare still haunts me and brings tears of guilt to my eyes, even though it wasn't real. And there is no way that was a visitation from Pico. I can tell you exactly why I had that nightmare and where came from, but that's another story.

I've actually only had one other dream about Pico since then. And now this one.

While it was a very sad dream, it may be a visitation for this reason: the people in the dream with me. Not a lot of people understand my attachment to such small, short-lived animals.

Except Jhenn, who also gets attached to her small, short-lived animals and who was torn up by the loss of her rat several months before I lost Pico.

My mom, who has always been very understanding and supportive about everything, including the loss of those little lives that are so important to me.

My sister, who, growing up also shared a love of our little pets and who always tried to cheer me up by bringing a hamster to come visit me.

My brother could have been added to that list, he's pretty sensitive about such things. Even my dad could have been there-not because he understands my connection, but because he knows that they are important to me and that it makes me sad.

So there you have it. I felt very compelled to write and share this. Even before 6am on my day off. Thank you for listening. And thanks to the people in my life who care about their pets and about me enough to understand and comfort me.